Poem – The Roar

We cremated Tamlorn yesterday. It was very hard to go to the funeral home, to face this painful thing. And yet, it was transformative. Unexpectedly, something shifted in me.

The scream behind my silence becomes a roarI can breathe again, the weight lifts.Perhaps it was not grief, but silence.

The silencing, the weight of a culture that says ‘do not grieve’for fear of being accused of wallowing, or worse, public wallowing.

Like cresting a steep hill, I inhale the view, deeply.You were part of our family, dearly loved.and we mourned you as we mourn our own.Even the cats have graves – even little injured wild birds that die on the way to the vet.

Something came and took you from usinto the night and I thought I’d never get you back.There was just the void and a great silence.A deep numbness. In that place, you did not exist, neither did I.

But somehow, in this defiance – naming youmourning you, cremating you, in some way we drew you backfrom formlessness, you took on shapebecame a part of our family, honored by our rituals, inducted as a member.Part of a legacy.

We are your home, love.You are not a body washed up nameless on foreign soilyou are not a stray dog dying alone out in the bushyou are ours. We took you back. You lived and died in our bodywe have sung you to life and back to death againwe have burned you with lavender and rosemarythe drum of my heart calls your nameyou are here, you are here, you are here.